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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27499546">pirunir sur'haaise</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole'>MageOfCole</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cole Does Whumptober 2020 [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blindness, Brothers being assholes, CC-1010 | Fox is a Little Shit, CC-2224 | Cody is a Little Shit, CC-3636 | Wolffe Needs A Hug, CC-3636 | Wolffe is a Little Shit, Clone Troopers (Star Wars) Need Hugs, Clone Troopers Deserve Better (Star Wars), Comfortember 2020, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Eye Trauma, Gen, Good Parent Plo Koon, Hurt/Comfort, Parental Plo Koon, Past Torture, Past Violence, Platonic Cuddling, Protective CC-1010 | Fox, Protective CC-2224 | Cody, Protective Plo Koon, Touch-Starved Clone Troopers (Star Wars), Whump, Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-08 02:35:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,786</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27499546</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MageOfCole/pseuds/MageOfCole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(make their eyes water)</p><p>Wolffe thought he'd be sent off for decommissioning once he was pulled out of that torture chamber, the Republic had no need for a half-blind clone. Instead, he wakes up in a bed in the Halls of Healing, with his General leaning over him and promising him otherwise.</p><p>(No.26 - If You Thought The Head Trauma Was Bad...)<br/>(No.5 - Cuddling)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-1010 | Fox &amp; CC-3636 | Wolffe, CC-2224 | Cody &amp; CC-1010 | Fox, CC-2224 | Cody &amp; CC-3636 | Wolffe, Plo Koon &amp; CC-3636 | Wolffe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Cole Does Whumptober 2020 [26]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949908</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>71</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>517</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>pirunir sur'haaise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Wolffe had expected to be sent off for decommissioning the moment he had been pulled out of Ventress’ torture chamber. The moment it was no longer the pain in his body that he was focusing on, Wolffe had known that the Kaminoans would have him recycled for more genetic material. They had no use for a half-blind clone - Vode had been decommissioned for less - and the Republic would never pay for an expensive surgery when it would be cheaper for them to just replace him. He’d be taken away to the labs to be taken apart, the Kaminoans would probably tell his General that Wolffe had experienced complications with his injuries and replace him quickly and quietly, and he’d be nothing more than just another name said during Remembrances.</p><p>Drugged up to his gills, Wolffe had spilled all of this to General Koon as their ship flew them towards a med center and the fear bubbled up, tears in his remaining eye as he thought about leaving his Pack and brothers like this. His Jedi had gone still and quiet, hand tightening on Wolffe’s shoulder, but he hadn’t left Wolffe’s side, not until the cocktail of drugs Cub had given him started to take effect and finally dragged him under the inky sea of unconsciousness.</p><p>When he wakes up, he isn’t in a Republic medical facility, and he isn’t on Kamino being prepped for decommissioning. Instead, he’s laying on a cot more comfortable than he’d ever experienced, smelling of bacta and disinfectants, with a hint of some sort of incense that he remembers his Jedi liking. There’s a hand stroking through his hair, three-fingered and clawed, and a harmonic voice hums mindlessly.</p><p>Wolffe stirs, his only eye blinking open and, mind still foggy from bacta and drugs, he reaches up to poke at the gauze wrapped around his head. A thick-skinned hand catches his fingers gently, and Wolffe forces his eyes to focus.</p><p>General Plo watches him, eyes hidden by his goggles, and tusks twitching in the way Wolffe had come to associate with relief. “Commander Wolffe,” His General greets warmly, “It is good to see you awake once more.”</p><p>Wolffe opens his mouth, ready to respond, but the only sound he can make is a choked croak that has him flushing in embarrassment. General Plo only chuckles, resting a parental hand on Wolffe’s shoulder, the other hand reaching out to catch the glass of ice cubes that float over to them.</p><p>“You’ve been asleep for quite some time, Commander.” General Plo tells him, gently spooning a single ice cube into his mouth, and Wolffe accepts it with a dark blush that has the Jedi’s tusks twitching in the equivalent of a smile. “It was well deserved, I assure you.”</p><p>“I-” Wolffe coughs, “I didn’t tell her anything, General.” His voice is rough from disuse, but the chill of the ice is soothing the pain.</p><p>His General pats him gently on the shoulder, “I know, Commander.” The Kel Dor soothes, “I never doubted it.” Wolffe swallows, and silently accepts the next ice cube. “I’m sorry I did not get to you sooner.”</p><p>Wolffe stares at his General, confusion buzzing in his fuzzy mind. Why would he be sorry for <em> that </em> ? He hadn’t even expected <em> to </em>be rescued, much less to have woken up somewhere other than under the hands of the longnecks, so why would he be apologizing? “General - you got me out.” He says, still feeling the shock deep in his heart that he was still alive. “That’s more than I was expecting.” Stiff fingers knot in the soft blanket laying on his lap, and he ducks his head, not wanting to meet General Plo’s eyes as he speaks, not wanting to see the heartbreak or disappointment. Plo Koon loved his men, and Wolffe knows that their status as Non-Beings hurts him immensely. “I’m just a clone, sir. A damaged one at that.” He bites his lip, letting out a slow, heavy sigh.</p><p>“<em> Not to me </em> .” General Plo says without hesitation, reaching out to gently take Wolffe’s hands in his own. “You are <em> not </em> damaged, Wolffe, merely injured, and you <em> will </em>recover.”</p><p>Wolffe chokes, feeling his eye burn, and he looks up, wide-eyed. “The Senate will never pay to get me fixed, General.” He tells his Jedi mournfully. He’d come to accept that he didn’t have a future, or any hope for one, a long time ago, but the truth still hurts. He’d be leaving General Plo behind, Boost and Sinker too - the survivors of the original 104th would be down to three. His batchmates would be furious; Ponds would cry, so would Bly. Cody would work himself to death, and Fox would drink himself to an early grave, if they hadn’t already.</p><p>“You will not be decommissioned, Wolffe.” His General tells him passionately, “None of you will, not if we can help it.” Wolffe lets out a shuddering breath, and General Plo squeezes his hands. “The Jedi Order will cover all the costs for your prosthetics, as well as any prosthetics or long-time care your brothers will need.”</p><p>This is - so much more than Wolffe had ever dared to hope for.</p><p>“I-” Wolffe flounders, at a loss of what to do. “I don’t - <em> what </em>?”</p><p>His General hums, leaning forward to gently press their brows together, “You will heal, Wolffe.” He says, strongly enough that Wolffe <em> believes </em>him. “You endured something horrible, something you didn’t deserve, and I am proud of you, son.”</p><p>Wolffe whimpers - though he’d never admit it outside of the embrace his Jedi had gathered him into - and he leans into his General’s touch. “Thank you.” He whispers, voice gruff, thinking of all the Vode this will save. “<em> Thank you </em>.”</p><p>“You have nothing to thank me for, Commander.” General Plo assures him, and Wolffe laughs, somewhat hysterical.</p><p>He had so much to thank his General for, more than he’d ever be able to explain or repay. He didn’t even know where to start, or what to say.</p><p>“Now,” His General’s voice grows lighter, pulling away to pat Wolffe’s shoulder, and the injured Commander misses the warmth of the touch after it’s gone. But then he speaks, and Wolffe perks up in excitement, “I believe there are two fine young men here to see you. They will be glad that you have woken up.” The Kel Dor steps away, moving towards the door to Wolffe’s <em> private room </em>, and slides the door open to let two clones in greys into the small room. He aims a smile over his shoulder, voice warm, “I will see you soon, Commander.”</p><p>“You too, General.” Wolffe says absently, his eye on his brothers as they stand at attention while the Jedi leaves the room with a polite greeting to the other Commanders.</p><p>“Wolffe, you Force-damned <em> bastard </em>!” Fox barks the moment the door closes behind the General, brick-brown eyes snapping around to pin Wolffe with a thunderous glower. Beside him, Cody is quiet, staring at Wolffe with a calculating gleam in his amber gaze, studying his injuries, before his broad shoulders slump in relief, and he’s marching over to Wolffe’s cot with a fiery purpose.</p><p>Wolffe bares his teeth at his brothers in a grin, ignoring the left-over prickle of tears in his eye and pain from his mangled face, “I lived, fuckers.”</p><p>Fox makes an inarticulate noise of rage, but it’s a better look on him than the exhaustion that had been lining his face since the war broke out. Cody, on the other hand, huffs out a faint laugh as Fox makes an aborted move - most likely to throw himself at Wolffe and start a brawl, much like they had been prone to doing as cadets.</p><p>“Budge over.” Cody says, pushing at Wolffe’s shoulder, and Wolffe sends his little brother a glare.</p><p>“No, this is my hospital bed.” He growls - and it’s a comfortable bed too, he doesn’t want to share it with any ungrateful brats. “Get your own.”</p><p>“No, no.” Fox says, like the smug little shit that he is when he isn’t worked up into a frothing rage, approaching like a hunting Tooka. “Kot’ika’s got a point, sharing is caring big brother, move over.”</p><p>“Besides,” Cody adds easily, jimmying himself into an open space at his side. It looks comical, watching his little brother, now a solid mass of muscles from toating his sniper rifle around and fist fighting clankers, fold himself into the space under Wolffe’s armpit and along his ribs. He tucks his head against Wolffe’s collarbone, like he had back when he was the smallest and lightest of their batch - back when Alpha could pick him up by the collar of his reds and carry him around like a wet kitten. “Pace will be angry with me if I end up in medical on shore leave. He might actually throw himself out the airlock this time, and it’s hard to train up a new CMO.”</p><p>“Wouldn’t want to upset your medic.” Wolffe grumbles sarcastically, and Cody smirks up at him, amber eyes bright with mischief.</p><p>“Exactly.”</p><p>Unlike Cody, Fox doesn’t curl up against his side, instead, the Guard Commander throws himself dramatically across both his batchmates, covering them with his body. It’s a protective motion, one that Fox had always been prone to do, to make sure he was the first defense between his brothers and an attacker.</p><p>The look Wolffe slants his younger brother is annoyed, but fond, “Where did <em> you </em>learn about sharing, you greedy little shit?” He grumbles, the warmth of his brothers’ bodies pressed close to his own, tempting him to close his eye and drift off to sleep once more. “Couldn’t have been those Senators.”</p><p>Fox huffs out a sardonic against Wolffe’s temple, “Of course not.” He drawls, “Senators sharing is more likely than Cody confessing his undying love to his General.”</p><p>“Shut <em> up </em>.” Cody hisses, and Wolffe carefully leverages his legs over his little brother’s knees to stop Cody from kicking one of them as they laugh at his expense. “I hate you.”</p><p>“Love you too, baby brother.”</p><p>“Not a fucking baby.” Cody grumbles on instinct at the same time Fox lets out a disgusted snort,</p><p>“Ew, <em> affection </em>.” Then, sensing something to tease their brother about, Fox’s attitude takes a complete 180. “You’re definitely a baby.”</p><p>“No-”</p><p>“Don’t make me call Alpha.” Wolffe grunts, and Cody curses, before burrowing deeper into his side as Fox snickers. Fucking shits, the both of them. “Now go to sleep.” Surrounded by one half of his batch, feeling safe and warm, and protected by the knowledge that his General wouldn’t let the Longnecks decommission him, Wolffe lets himself drift back to sleep, listening to the beating of his brothers’ hearts.</p>
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